


Communication Issues

by Thelittlescrimshaw



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Humor/Romance, I am shameless reylo garbage, I'm not sorry, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelittlescrimshaw/pseuds/Thelittlescrimshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six things not to say when you're in bed with the enemy. PWP, Smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication Issues

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind, these two are total virgins (don't exactly have time for sex if you're scavenging to survive or trying to take over the galaxy) and this piece is a little humorous homage to that.

Communication Issues

OR

Six Things Not To Say When in Bed with Your Enemy.

 

6

It is the first time they are doing this; he’s shirtless and she’s naked beneath him. She tugs at his pants, urging them lower on his hips. He helps her out and kicks them off, and he his naked before her.

“Oh, good,” Rey says, and Kylo Ren is thoroughly confused. He quirks and eyebrow, and she elaborates, “You’re so tall, and your hands are big – I was worried you’d be, ah, so big that it hurt. But it’s so totally average, so this will be easy.” She gestures down at his _so totally average_ (and now rather limp) dick, and he tugs his pants on. 

“Wait – it’s a _compliment –_ if it’s too big, it hurts and it’s bad! I’m not exactly a large person!” she calls after him, but he’s shrugging on his cloak.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Me and my perfectly average dick are going on a walk.”

.

5

.

They’re naked and Rey hasn’t made any comments about the size of his _perfectly average_ dick, which is a plus. She has her hands wrapped around him, and it feels _so good,_ except –

“Damn, your hands are rough,” he grunts, when a callous snags the skin of his dick in an unpleasant way. “Like a man’s, or something.”

She frowns up at him, and he’s mortified when she starts laughing uncontrollably.

Needless to say, sex didn’t happen that night.

.

4

.             

She’s biting at his neck in a perfect cocktail of pleasure and pain when her hand comes up to his throat and _squeezes._ He chokes, throwing her off of him and rubbing at his trachea. “ _The hell?”_

She blinks at him, perfectly naked in his bed, and says, “I just thought – with the whole Vader thing – that you’d be into that?”

“Who the _fuck_ would be into that? Are you trying to _kill_ me?” he barks, stealing most of the blankets and presenting his back to her as an insult.

.

3

.

His head is between her legs, his tongue doing wonderful things to her sex. She’s gasping, tugging at his hair, doing her best to not scream…

Her best, evidently, was not good enough. He’s startled, blinking, eyes hazy with lust. “What – are you?”

“ _Don’t stop,”_ she snarls, shoving him back down, but the mood has been thoroughly ruined.

.

2

.

Finally, _finally,_ they’ve come to an agreement: basic communication, “yes” “stop” and “Not there” aside, they are not going to speak. And it works – finally, _finally,_ he’s made her come, again and again, sex slick enough for him to slide _his perfectly average-sized dick_ in, and he nearly gasps at the feel of it. It’s perfect, more perfect than he could have imagined. He moves his hips, tentative at first, then with more and more vigor. She rakes her nails down his back, keening beneath him, and he thrusts into her, breath heavy.

“Fuck,” she moans beneath him. “ _Harder.”_

And he does, but he miscalculates what “harder” means for her, and she gives a yelp of pain as he takes her command to heart and rams into her.

“Not _that_ hard,” she groans, turning to the side as he slides out of her.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

.

1

.

Finally, _finally,_ after weeks of messing up and coordinating and learning each other’s bodies, they’ve done it. They’ve fucked. Kylo Ren knows he’ll never forget the sounds she made when he slipped his finger inside of her, knows he’ll never forget the feel of her mouth on his whispering _more, more, more,_ knows he’ll always crave her touch.

They’re lying on his bed in a post-coital haze when he murmurs into the back of her neck, “I love you.”

She freezes, and he knows he’s made a mistake.

.

0

.

She hasn’t been around, not since that incident, and Kylo Ren can’t blame her. He’s thoroughly fucked that up, much like he’s fucked up everything else in his life, so he ignores the emptiness left inside of him and hopes that one day it will abate.

When she shows up, his eyes go wide and he breathes out her name. _“Rey.”_

“Don’t speak,” she says, marching up to him and crashing her lips against his. He picks her up, hands resting on her bottom and her thighs wrapped around his waist. He peppers kisses on her temple, her cheek, going down to her neck where he pauses, breathes, and then nips with his teeth and lips and tongue. She gasps, grabbing a fistful of his hair, pushing herself flush against him.

Even that wasn’t close enough. He fishes a hand underneath her tunic, rests it on her ribcage, a hair’s breadth beneath her breast. He drags a thumb teasingly close and she makes a small growl of frustration into his mouth. “ _Tease.”_

He grins wickedly and takes her bottom lip into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth over it. “And?” he asks, and takes two steps before depositing her onto his bed, quickly following suit. He props himself up on his elbows and kisses her from her forehead to her nose to her lips, from her neck to her collarbones to just above her breasts. He tugs at her shirt and she removes it, removes her chest bindings, and he takes one of her small, perfect breasts into his mouth, dragging his teeth across, and she mewls, squirming beneath him.

“Shhh,” he says when she whimpers in pleasure. He has a hand beneath her pants, thumb on her clit and finger inside of her sex. He pumps his finger and presses his thumb to her clit, and she whimpers again, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

He kisses her at the climax and she screams into his mouth. He bites down on her lip and she returns the favor, and then he’s kissing her everywhere in her post-coital haze, nevermind that the two of them are half-clothed.

He continues his administrations until she sits up, pulls his shirt off of him, and straddles his lap. She bites down on his neck, _hard,_ and he hisses at the _wonderful, beautiful_ sensation that sends shivers down his spine. Her breasts are pressed into his chest, her skin is smooth beneath her hands, and her wicked, sinful mouth is eliciting pleasure from being on his _neck._ She grinds into his lap, smirking at the erection she finds, and he’s helpless beneath her.

She pushes him onto his back and tugs at his pants; he helps her, kicking them off of his ankles, and then she’s taking him into her mouth and _oh dear god –_

Whatever she’s doing, he’s not going to last if she continues. He fists into her hair and pulls her up, adjusts her so she’s straddling his lap, and in one quick motion he’s beneath her and she’s effectively sitting on his face.

Once, twice she comes, and he can feel her shaking. He stops after the second time, shifting and sitting up, and then it’s him on his back and her lowering herself onto him. He lets her set the pace, at first, as she moves her hips, leaving scratches on his chest. It’s tantalizing, teasing, and then –

-And then he reverses their positions and she’s on her back and he’s looming over her, shoulders broad and hair falling over his ears.  He keeps a finger to her clit as he thrusts into her. Her thighs are pressed into his side, her legs wrapped around him, hips tilted up for a more pleasurable angle. He can’t help but gasp and groan at the feeling – warm and wet and _tight_ , and he can’t help but gasp her name when she digs into his back and making those wonderful noises of ecstasy.

“I love you,” he says, kissing her forehead. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He isn’t sure if she responds, isn’t sure if her gasp was one of surprise or disgust, but she kisses him as he finishes and lies there, beneath his hulking form, after.

He shifts his weight so he’s lying next to her, arm around her waist. Rey curls into him, and when she speaks, her lips brush against the purpling bruises on his neck.

“What happened to not talking during sex?”

He looks down, flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

 She has an impish gleam to her eye. She leans up and kisses him. “Don’t be. I feel it, too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if my smut isn't top par - I'm relatively new to this fandom dynamic. Criticisms welcomed.


End file.
